


Apotasy

by SwellDame



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Feels, I'm Bad At Tagging, Murder Husbands, Near Death, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7436527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwellDame/pseuds/SwellDame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anne has a breakdown after being saved from her hanging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-read by my lovely friend Charis.

The first drops of rain fell on her head as Anne sat beneath the oak tree, feasting on the handful of bilberries. She paid little attention to the low rumble of thunder heard in the distance. Instead, she wiped her dirty hands on the hem of her white dress and leaned back against the trunk of the tree and watched the clouds darken.

She inhaled the sweet aroma of the wet grass as it stung her throat and made her eyes tear. She wasn’t supposed to be alive; she shouldn’t be breathing. Mere hours ago she was hanging by a rope, struggling to breathe as she watched her beloved husband ride away into the distance. Anne had felt her heart cease to beat and thought she was in the throes of death when Remy had cut her down and she had fallen to the ground, gasping for air.

She looked down and palmed the dagger she stole from Remy and remembered how she held it to his throat. She threatened both Remy and the old priest to not breathe a word of her survival to Athos or they would pay with their lives. Both men made faint nods before Anne had climbed on the back of the black horse and rode away.

The young woman swallowed the bile which rose at her threat. She never recalled feeling an overwhelming wicked seed growing from the pit of her stomach. She certainly never felt this way while she lived on the streets. But her thoughts quickly turned back to Athos and his fading figure. This went beyond survival; it felt as though it was her only driving force to feed and live off of now that she had nothing.

“Fucking coward,” She muttered as she reached up and traced the tender wound around her throat. She closed her eyes as a sob escaped her lips. The thought resounded in her head, refusing to let go.

Anne fisted the ground tearing clumps of dirt and blades of grass away and beating the ground. Her sobs grew louder, quickly becoming an undertone to the surrounding storm. She stood with the dagger in hand, turned and stabbed the trunk of the tree.

“You bastard!” Each word was punctuated by steel meeting the bark which chipped away and fell at her feet.

“I trusted you!” she shrieked, “I loved you and and you left me to die!”

Like a tornado in a hurricane, she ripped and clawed at the tree until her exhausted body screamed at her to stop. Once the blade slipped from her grasp, she was vaguely aware of a stinging sensation shooting across her right hand. She looked down at her sliced palm and back at the bare tree. Its naked trunk was marked with multiple blunt stabbings and faint traces of her blood.

Anne fell to her knees. The wet mud soaked through her dress and turned her skin cold. The rain whipped across her face, wiping away her tears with the wind.

“Why have you forsaken me?” The words passed through her lips as she recalled her first kiss she shared with Athos, how sweet and warm and perfect it was. It was all gone now. Their love, which became her religion, was gone.

 _Go back_ , a voice said, too calm and sounding very much unlike her own. _Revenge._


	2. Chapter 2

It was dark by the time Anne reached the chateau. She dodged behind trees and bushes around the outside of the estate, careful to remain unseen. When she was close enough, Anne was surprised to see that her former home was pitch black. No candlelight illuminated the rooms inside. How she would love to see this place burn to the ground one day.

“I suppose the death of your beloved wife would help you sleep soundly,” Anne whispered.

She took a step closer, out of the brush. Visions of holding the steel to his throat precisely how the rope seared hers. This unbridled image of violence forced her to take two more steps toward the house - she was still in the shadows - still undercover so Athos would never see her approaching.

But the sound of the front door opening startled her. The unanticipated possibility of being seen made her tremble. She watched as the tall, lean figure stumbled out and fell to the ground with a groan. Anne fought the impulse to run to his side and help him.

 _Pathetic_ , she thought as Athos staggered to his knees, then flopped onto his back. She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a few hesitant steps forward with the dagger drawn at her side. One more step and she would be cast into the moonlight. But then Athos raised his head and swayed from side to side, as if trying to focus his vision on something, anything to steady himself.

Anne prayed he wouldn’t see her. Suddenly all of her plans, all of her thoughts of revenge evaporated and she was left with sweaty palms and doubts. And since the good Lord had been leaving so many of her prayers unanswered, what was one more? For Athos focused in her general direction, and while she still hoped he didn’t see her in the darkness, her hope was short lived.

“Anne,” Athos groaned out loud. Anne’s breath stopped short. Her mouth dropped open and she expected to scream but no sound escaped. He might as well had shot her then and there to finish the job.

She searched her soul to reignite the flame she felt earlier that day but she couldn’t find it. Instead she ran.  


End file.
